


not a sacrifice, but a pleasure

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Body Worship, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, On BOTH SIDES, Original Percival Graves is Bad at Feelings, Post-Canon, Unofficial Sequel, at the beginning, but then its explicitly consenting on both sides, everyone is trying their best okay, fish out of water Graves, graves pov, heavy heavy undertones tbh, thar be feelings deep down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 06:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15966947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Credence begs Mister Graves to let him stay.Really, really reluctantly, the man agrees to it.This is his life now.





	not a sacrifice, but a pleasure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blind faith](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10090568) by Anonymous. 



> this is an unofficial and possibly, due to the original fic's tone, *unwanted* sequel, but the fact is, i drunk read that fic and felt the tug of inspiration for the first time in.... a long ass while. it was all Credence's POV, so this fic is Graves.'  
> there's also heavy vibes of 'til tomorrow comes' in this fic and for that i am, eternally not sorry.  
> that was the first Gradence i ever read and Hoo Boy is it a hum dinger.  
> so for the original author, since it is anonymous, i apologize in advance, but also hope you'll like it?  
> thanks!

The boy follows.

Of course he does. He’s known only Grindelwald’s evil, pale shade of Percy’s soul. He doesn’t know any better.

Percy tries not to hate himself too much as he watches Credence crawl after him.

He takes a seat down on the bed, not even bothering to remove his shoes or socks, or even undo his tie.

Percy tells the boy to do it for him. Credence obeys.

Like clockwork, he does everything Percy asks. He unlaces his shoes, reverent, carefully, slow.

The boy’s long, pale fingers gently tug down his socks and fold them, tucking them into the backs of his leather boots. Percy watches and his jaw tightens as he does so. He aches to speak, to command Credence to stop, to end this madness. He hardly knows the boy. Yet the boy knows him, his body, his very being, better than anyone.

Who knows what horrors Grindelwald has committed using Percy as his mask. He keeps waiting. And waiting.

Expecting the boy to break. To tell him no, to kill this illusion of perfect submission. Credence does no such thing.

He bares Percy’s legs, his waist, his groin.

Credence's palms slide up Percy's naked thighs slowly, and frame his cock, aching, hard, fairly dripping onto his own skin, his chest heaves with exertion as he pants for breath. Percy swallows thickly, and commands again. “Suck me off.”

Credence lowers his head, eyes closing, long dark lashes kissing the tops of his high cheekbones, and he _does_.

Percy’s head falls back, and a groan crawls out of his throat at the merest sensations.

The flick of a tongue against his slit, the curve of a soft, chapped lip, and then a proper sucking feeling from the boy’s mouth. Credence has never sucked a cock before, but he does exquisitely now.

Percy finds himself short of breath within seconds, but he’s a grown man, a mature wix. He can control himself. He will.

Credence gives his cock kitten licks, lapping his tongue at every drooling strand of precum, keeping anything from messing up Percy’s dress shirt and tie, both his hands splayed over tense, thickly muscled thighs, fingertips digging in, knuckles white. Credence swallows around him, humming desperately as he gasps for breath, and Percy’s back arches, his orgasm on the edge of breaking the careful walls he’s built up inside himself.

No self pleasure had been allowed, and still was a foreign concept to him. All he knows is order, control.

A way to guide the chaos his life has become since Grindelwald. The only way.

“Make me come.” He says, mostly an afterthought, less an order, and Credence continues.

The boy keeps petting Percy’s legs, and sucks and licks and keeps down every stray drop of saliva, along with anything that may leak from the tip of the cock buried down his throat.

The boy doesn’t protest, or even move by the time Percy loses the battle with his own body, and his eyes force themselves closed, his orgasm wracking through him, pushing him back onto the bed, hips jolting, entire being shaky.

Credence gulps and swallows, humming slightly, and pulls off of Percy’s cock with a wet, obscene noise, asking him far too politely if that was correct. “Get up here, on your stomach.”

Credence goes, again, no questions asked, doing what Percy tells him, as if trusting, _knowing_ that all that he says is Good as Gospel. It hardly is. Once Credence is on the bed too, Percy spells away his clothing, far too impatient to bother undressing the boy from his peasant rags.

He moves, his second wind propelling him, urging him to lean, loom over Credence, and assess the damage.

They are both such damaged creatures, but Credence’s scars are far more visible, borderline horrific, and Percy finds himself hurting. His chest aches with sympathy, with anger towards the boy’s long since dead guardians who treated him like this. Magic cannot heal the oldest of wounds, but it can help the fresher ones.

He pets a hand down the boy’s naked spine, and watches as it bows to his touch, Credence lowers his head to rest his cheek on his folded arms, presenting his pale, plush ass to Percy’s line of sight, and he knows, instantly, this will ruin him.

If Grindelwald managed to resist _taking_ this, then he is a far stronger man than Percy.

But of course, he is a great and dangerous wizard, so he likely did whatever he wanted, and refused to indulge this poor creature one iota. Percy, however, is not a monster. He will not simply Take and Break and expect a thank you.

Credence deserves better. Percy doesn’t ask what the boy expects, he summons what he will need to give pleasure.

Clear viscous slick coats his fingers within seconds, which he applies with his free hand to the sliver of heat between Credence’s legs, and Percy receives a sudden gasp, a jolt of the long limbed slender body beneath him, before a whimpered moan of “Yes, please, oh god,” so he knows. He is allowed to continue.

Percy has always enjoyed this part. The slow, careful easing of fingertips inside another being, or oneself, to prepare for the utmost bliss. Credence shudders, and then fairly collapses under his touch, and Percy holds himself back, but just barely, from kissing the boy’s temple as he works up from one to two fingers.

He considers his own cock a modest length, Credence didn’t choke or get close to gagging even once while on him, but he knows that’s likely normal. There is of course the matter of it likely being the boy’s first time.

Percy doesn’t wish to hurt him, but he does want to leave an impression. In a way, he wants to make a statement.

He is _not_ Grindelwald, and will never be anything like him, at least, not much.

Percy shifts over to kneel behind Credence properly, and withdraws his hand, the slickness growing tacky, almost grossly sticky. “I’m going to fuck you until you come.” He says, simple, enough.

Percy now has to cheat, to cast a spell, recovering quicker than a man his age should, but there is no shame in it.

The boy has no idea of what to expect.

So Credence trembles from the first touch of Percy’s cock against his hole, and then once he’s pressed inside slowly, and buried the head of it, the boy exhales for the first time in several long seconds, “Yes, Mister Graves.”

Throughout almost the entire encounter, Credence has been silent, until now.

When Percy bottoms out, he has to bite his tongue to keep from groaning at the feel.

Such ecstasy. It’s been far too long since he indulged himself, like this.

Whether from bringing a rent boy home, or simply finding someone whom he could seduce. He’s not been able to.

Credence shivers beneath him, demanding his attention, so Percy returns to earth, and pulls out, starting to move.

He thrusts steadily, slow, but deep, in and out and in again, finding a rhythm that suits him, whilst brushing against what has to be Credence’s prostate every other stroke, going off the strangled gasps escaping the boy.

He manages to fumble a hand beneath the sharp pale jut of hips, and finds Credence’s cock throbbing, wet and hot and desperate for release. Percy swallows, and tries not to compare himself, but it’s nearly impossible.

The boy would surely break him, were he to be given the privilege of fucking him.

“Please sir-” Credence starts, and Percy smiles, the break in the mask of control well hidden in the nape of the boy’s neck. “Come for me.” He says worse things, calls the boy weak, pathetic, and when he feels the warm slick spurts of Credence’s release against his palm, wetting his fingers, that’s plenty enough for him.

Percy’s hips go still, pressing flush against the boy’s ass, and he fills up the tight hot hole grasping frantically around his cock before he’s then collapsing over Credence’s narrow back, burying his face in the crook of neck and shoulder.

The aftermath is more complicated.

Percy pulls out and away from Credence, watching the gleam of his own semen slipping out of the fluttering pink of the boy’s ass, dripping slowly down the back of his pale thighs, and he can’t resist touching it.

Thumbing over the tacky slickness. The urge to lick over it, to bring the boy to another orgasm tickles the back of Percy’s mind. Credence moans softly, distracting him. “Mister Graves… Did I please you?”

He’s so unsure.

So concerned with someone else’s welfare above his own.

Percy licks his lips, and finds the boy’s dark eyes, glittering in the dim lamplight. “You did well, yes.”

“Please, may I have something?” The boy has already begged him to be allowed to stay, what’s one further request?

“What?” Percy asks, feeling the urgent need for a bath, and perhaps a few fingers of whiskey. Credence gulps.

His pale throat bobs with the motion, and Percy’s chest swells, even as his spent cock twitches at the memory.

 _‘I’ve been inside there_ ,’ Percy thinks.

“Would you… kiss me?” Credence finishes, a tremour to his voice.

Percy inhales sharply. That’s far from what he expected. In fact, it’s trivial compared to what he now owes the boy, truly.

“I will. Come here.”

Credence crawls again, just over the crumpled blankets and sheets, kneeling right beside Percy, his elegant and lovely head tilted, hair ruffled from sex, and his eyes slowly glide shut.

His lips are plump, and chapped, but nevertheless beckoning.

Percy licks his own again, and leans in, closing his own eyes, before feeling their mouths meet.

Credence makes a soft sound against him, and Percy smiles, reaching up to grasp at the back of the boy’s nape, fingers caressing short stubble, then stroking higher, catching the perfect edge of his horrid haircut.

A few easy charms can fix that, so it’s hardly a problem. “Like that?” Percy asks, breaking away, staring at Credence, taking in the glassy eyes, the swollen lips, and the flush of his cheeks. He’s beautiful, really something.

And Grindelwald had planned to use him and leave him? What a waste that would have been.

“Yes. Thank you sir.” Credence breathes, and Percy’s nostrils flare, catching the thick scent of their coupling.

He can’t help wincing a little at that manner of address, even after sex.

“Come now, if you’ll be staying with me for a while, I think the least you could do is call me Percival. Short of Mister Graves.” Credence nods quickly, obedient as ever. “Yes, Mister Graves. I promise I’ll do better.”

Percy sighs, and then accepts his new reality. The boy will need to learn magic, to control his power, at some point.

For right now though, they both need to clean up, and get some much needed rest. “Follow me.”

He gets up off the bed, expecting Credence to do the same, but instead, he remains on his knees, and shuffles along, trailing behind him as quiet and eager as a kitten on carpet.

Once inside the bathroom, he waits patiently as Percy draws the water, heated by magic, filling the tub almost to the brim. _Very well_. Percy thinks. It’s not the end of the world.

He should be thankful for such a beautiful and pliant creature, housing powers the limit of which are unknown.

Perhaps someday Credence will stop following the letter of his law. Then Percy can witness an unbridled obscurus.

For now, he concerns himself with helping the boy bathe himself, gently washing the dark, wavy locks, using the few charms he knows for vanity’s sake to ease the growing out of the bowl cut, so that by the end of the hour, Credence’s hair now licks softly down his nape, covering his ears, and kissing his jawline.

Percy flicks a hand at the water, vanishing it, and summons a set of fresh towels, tucking one over the boy’s shoulders, then wrapping the other around his waist. He concerns himself with drying Credence’s hair first, before proceeding to urge him to turn, so that he can finish off his upper body.

The scars stand out in stark contrast, pink and white lines criss crossing over pale skin, making Percy angry once more.

That bitch, that horrid nomaj had done this to Credence, not even because of his magic.

There would be no way for her to know. She’d simply hurt him, since she could. Percy’s hands tremble, and he sets one down over Credence’s shoulder, firm, and heavy. “What is it, Mister Graves?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just lost in thought. Come now, you need your rest.” Percy snaps his fingers and puts the damp towels away, the rest of Credence’s body kissed with warm air as they return to the bedroom, and he stops the boy just before he can drop to his knees, to crawl to the bed.

“Let’s not undo all that work we’ve just accomplished, hmm?” He says quietly, and Credence nods, glassy eyed with exhaustion. He lets the boy climb in first, before following, tucking his shorter, but broader form right behind Credence, his legs bending into the back of the boy’s longer ones, as one arm drapes over the slender waist.

“Sleep well.” Percy whispers, his lips finding their way right below Credence’s ear, and he feels the boy shiver.

“Thank you.” He doesn’t fall asleep for a long, long time, but he feels how Credence’s body relaxes in sleep, and he seems to breathe without much effort, perhaps feeling safe, secure in the knowledge that he’s not going to be homeless.

 

That eases Percy’s mind eventually as well, and just before dawn, he drifts off.

 

He wakes, with a new purpose.

If Credence wishes to continue these… elements of their relationship, which is far beyond a professional mentor and pupil arrangement, Percy is not going to be selfish, nor hold back from showing Credence new things.

He turns to see the boy still asleep, lost in dreams, perhaps, so he reaches out, a hand hovering right above the smoothness of a pale thigh, he lets his fingers fall down, caressing the skin, petting the warm surface.

Like with a cat, it makes Credence stir, but slowly, he returns to consciousness with a fluttering of dark lashes, and then a parting of kiss reddened lips. He yawns, and then sobers, catching sight of Percy watching him.

“Good morning Mister Graves.”

Percy smiles, despite himself. “Hello there. Do you mind if I touch you, like this?”

His hand rises, and strokes closer to Credence’s inner thigh, far now from a platonic, soothing touch. Percy’s eyes drop to see the boy’s chest heaving, and lower still to his cock, plumping against his stomach. “No, I don’t mind it.”

Percy shifts on the bed, rolling over so that he’s almost on top of Credence, and then he slowly leans down to kiss him.

The sweetness with which the boy had asked the night before for such a thing is at the forefront of his mind.

Percy kisses Credence while reaching around his waist, urging his legs apart.

He can then move down to rest in the cradle of the boy’s thighs, miles of pale creamy skin begging for a touch.

Percy’s mouth fairly waters, and he can already smell Credence’s arousal, see the glisten of precum easing out from the tip of his cock. “I’m going to kiss you elsewhere, understand?”

Credence nods, frantic, desperate almost, too eager to ask for clarification.

Perhaps he’s guessing that Percy will blow him. He’d be wrong.

Percy licks a wet trail from Credence’s hipbone to beneath his cock, ignoring the thickening shaft, and gently nudging the swell of his balls out of the way, hefting those thighs up, and guiding the boy’s knees to his chest.

Percy can then nose in, and swipe his tongue over Credence’s twitching hole, catching the sound of a gasp, before the boy gains control of himself. He glances up to see that Credence is biting down on one of his wrists, and he smiles, smug, then returns to the task before him. Making Credence come without so much as touching his lovely cock.

Percy’s jaw doesn’t start to ache until he’s pushing his tongue in and around the steadily clenching rim of the boy’s ass, feeling the slight give, enough to allow a whole finger up to the first knuckle inside, without the help of slick. Not yet. First he lets Credence adjust to the slow teasing, then he pushes his tongue in, beside the finger, feeling how the boy squirms, and pants against his forearm.

Percy keeps his free hand firmly grasping at Credence’s opposite hip, pinning him down to the bed, while silently charming for slick just on his other hand, over two fingers.

When he adds the second, he can reach in, and down, finding the spot to make the boy’s hips jolt, pushing up against his hold. He grins now, and turns to nip a kiss against Credence’s inner thigh, a warning of sorts. To let him know to hold still. Percy massages firmly on that bundle of nerves, until the boy’s cock begins to ooze more white than clear fluid, and it’s vicious now, forming a puddle on Credence’s stomach.

“Come for me whenever you like.” Percy says, voice muffled slightly by the boy’s taint, as he swirls his tongue around the pink and shiny rim of his hole. He can feel Credence’s body tense up and relax with his orgasm, his back arches to force himself closer to Percy’s face, to urge his fingers deeper, to rock harder into his prostate, as his cock drools for a long moment, until he finally collapses onto the bed, boneless, spent.

Percy works his fingers free, wiping them carelessly on the sheets, and puts his hands on Credence’s waist, sliding them up to brace on his ribs, moving up to loom over the boy. “Very good. Now you may suck me off, before breakfast, hmm?” Credence blinks up at him, bleary eyed from the last fadings of sleep, and freshly blissful due to his aftershocks no doubt still zipping through his body. “Y-yes please.”

Percy smiles, and rolls them over, putting Credence atop him, while petting a hand through his newly grown locks, guiding him to put his lips where he wants them. There isn’t a hint of a tremor to the boy’s actions now.

Credence is flush with pleasure, and with that comes confidence.

Percy already feels a sense of accomplishment, and they haven’t even discussed magic.

 

* * *

 

**end**


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